GIJoe!
Yesterday dawned bright with a sunrise filling my house with warm light. I was up before first crack, washing and towelling Scoot. I rode across to my friend Nikki's house, and picked her up along with her Mom and Dad (on a Road King no less). Braving a rain shower and gravel roads had taken their toll, Scoot was dirtier than Lisa Lewis. Sigh. We do we bother? So, with perfect pillion (small, light, hot, and a laugh) we trudged out to Karaka, doing the speed limit. No, not the limit at which the horsepower can no longer out muscle drag, but the actual speed limit. Who would have guessed Harley's are so fricken slow??
We queued around the feeder road, how many bikes this year, scoping out all the hot rides, and the hot chick wearing knee high CFM boots (pointing and chuckling). Then we followed the rest for our ride across Aucks, with the shortest diversion along Queen St, then onto the bridge and across to AUT. After a small tour of the carpark (think hours, not minutes), we parked up and said hi to all sorts, studiously avoiding GIJoe (where were you mate??). We rode up to where the Helo was landing, then headed across to Albania for coffee and breakfast. Good morning for all. When's the next group ride?
Its diametrically opposed to the sanitised existence of the Lemmings around me in the Dilbert Cartoon hell I live in; its life at full volume, perfect colour with high resolution and 10,000 watts of amplification.
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